


Taking Time

by CWF



Category: Bionicle - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, Other, crack ship, this isn't serious at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2019-03-05 19:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13394565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CWF/pseuds/CWF
Summary: Makuta obtains the legendary Kanohi Vahi and savors the moment, if you will.





	Taking Time

**Author's Note:**

> So, way back in the summer of 2015 I reblogged a shipping meme and got a massive amount of pairings in my inbox. As it quickly descended into crack ships, Teridax/Kanohi Vahi came up, and the urge to write hit me right then and there.
> 
> The part where it takes a turn for the worst was inspired by an additional comment of "DON'T FUCK THE MASK" so of course you know what I had to do.

Here it is, the power of time in Makuta’s hands. Held within the golden curves of an exotically shaped mask made by a highly skilled Toa. How beautiful, how powerful this mask was. Being able to physically hold the very containment of time with his own two hands made Makuta’s antidermis turn within his hollow armored chest. He trailed a claw down a smooth side, the tip catching the holes as it went. He extended his fingers to drum lightly, lovingly, against the side of it, making a light clinking noise when each finger landed. It was the sound of music, the metallic, hollow sound of time contained. Makuta’s fingers stopped their drumming and held still upon the mask, quivering slightly as he gazed upon it’s glimmering gold surface, as if he was gently cupping the cheek of the face of time itself. Makuta let out a breath at the realization and fervently caressed it once more, his claws reflected in a golden tint upon the mirror of the surface.

Time was now his and only his.

Makuta lifted his hand to hover over the side of the Vahi once more, a single claw above one of the precisely shaped oval holes in the mask’s cheek. The perfect placement of the holes as well as the shape intrigued Makuta in regards to the care Vakama took in crafting it. It would be too easy to accidentally carve too much, make the holes too wide and the mask weak. He gently dipped his fingertip in to examine, tracing the clean golden edge of the hole, marveling at how it felt. The craftsmanship was astounding, no hints of roughness present. Makuta pressed deeper, eliciting a soft scraping sound as more of his finger brushed the edges of the hole. He pressed in agonizingly slow, his pace lengthening out the scraping into a smooth, steady sound, until his last knuckle cut off the sound with a satisfying clink upon the rim. Makuta couldn’t help but grin wickedly at the sight, the hole fit snugly around the girth of his finger, unforced and perfectly fit as if it was designed for him. Makuta flexed his wrist upwards, pulling out his finger in one smooth motion, before pressing back in gently to scrape the edges once more. Feeling more confident that he won’t scrape off any shavings and mar the beautiful curve of the hole, he quickened his pace, the soft rasping of his finger upon the edges sending minuscule vibrations through the armor of his claw.

An invisible Vakama turned around to confront Makuta after kneeling next to the dead body of a legend, only to be met with the sight of Makuta’s finger thrusting vigorously into the legendary Mask of Time. Vakama’s determined glare fell blank, unseen on his invisible Kanohi. The recent loss of Lhikan and the symbolic desecration of his life’s work caused something to give way inside him. He sprung into motion, unlimbering his disk launcher with practiced ease and lowered to a knee.

He took aim and squeezed the trigger.


End file.
